Harry Potter Early Edition
by Evelyn
Summary: Harry Potter meets Early Edition. Interesting, is it not? Some swearing, beware! Please r/r, thanks!
1. Infernonia

A/N-Hello, you lot. Fyrn here. I was bored, so I just decided to write the opening chapters of  
this Crossover thingie. It's a crossover between the show Early Edition and Harry Potter. Odd  
combonation, I know, but hey, I try. In case you've never seen Early Edition before, it's about   
a guy named Gary Hobson who lives in an apartment above his restuante in Chicago (I can't spell).  
At any rate, he gets tomorrow's paper today, and he has to run around saving all the people who   
get hurt or killed. Pretty cool, really. I'm writing it from 5 different points of view, so I'll  
put them at the top of each section.I apologize for any formatting problems, Word was broken  
so I had to use the hated Notepad format. Blaaaaa....At any rate, here's the story. It's  
dedicatedto my Grandma,'cause I first saw Early Edition at her house. Off we go!   
  
  
NO TITLE YET  
  
Gary Hobson's View  
"And the weather today will be...." Arrrrrg. 6:00 already? I rolled over and pushed the  
off button on my alarm clock. I tumbled out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom.  
Ten minutes and a hot shower later I walked out of the bathroom to hear a loud angry  
"Meow!" come from behind the front door. I groaned and opened the door. My cat, who I'd never  
really bothered to name, uttered one more pissed-off yowl and stalked past me, leaving the paper  
behind. I groaned again when I saw the date-February 5th. Tomorrow. God, would it ever stop?   
I picked it up and scanned the front page-nothing big, only some mergers, a few speeches by that   
idiot Bush. Then my eyes lighted on a small column at the bottem. GIRL KILLED BY ADOPTIVE MOTHER.  
Oh my God. I hurridly read though the article. It stated that Fyrn Lupin, a 14 year old girl, had  
been adopted February 4th -today- at 12:30 p.m. She had been found dead in the mother's house  
at 7:15 p.m., having apparently bled to death from knife wounds. Anne Greenwich, the adoptive  
mother, was being held in custody by the police, but refused to state the motive for murder.  
I threw down the paper and dashed downstairs into the resturante kitchen. Michelle was  
already down there, instructing Christie, the short-order cook, how to make the perfect eggs  
benedict.  
"Ok, first you need to fry the eggs. Or do you make the toast first?" Michelle was  
saying. Christie threw one exasperated look at me and handed me the spatula.  
"Here, you can probably cook them better than I can."  
I raised an eyebrow and put the spatula down. I spotted Chuck through the kitchen window  
and headed out to talk to him, dragging Michelle behind me.  
Plopping down at the table, I waved to Christie to bring me some coffee. This may be the   
most complicated problem I needed to handle.  
"Alright, then. Small problem today." Chuck glanced up over today's paper at me but   
continued reading. I ripped the paper from his hands. "Will you listen to me?!?!" I fumed. "Look,  
a girl is going to be killed today by the woman who adopted her. She's being adopted at 12:30,   
it's almost 7, and you just sit there reading the damn paper?"  
Chuck looked from me to Michelle and back to me again. "Ok, Gary," he sighed. "What hero-  
ic act do we need to do today?"  
I stood up. "I'm going out to the foster home where she's living. I need you two to  
handle the resturante today. I won't be back for a few hours. Make sure one of you is near a  
phone at all times. I'll put in a call when I get there and if I run into any problems. Sound  
good? Thanks a lot." I ran back up to my apartment without bothering to hear their answer. I   
grabbed the paper and my cell phone and dashed down the stairs and out the door.  
  
A/N-Yes, it is rather short, I apologize, but Notepad deleted my earlier version which had Fyrn's  
AND Gary's AND Chuck's point of view on there. Stupid stupid stupid stupid computer! ::Bangs her  
head on the keyboard:: Oh, and Fyrn is a witch, we explain her cercumstances in the next install-  
ment/chapter thingie, sometime next week. I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors, no  
one is perfect, but hey, I try!  
  
Disclaimer- Early Edition belongs to who ever thought of it and the people at Fox Family. (It's  
on weeknights at 7:00 PM and 10:00 PM eastern time, on the Fox Family channel,if you want to  
watch it). Christie the short-order cook belong's to me, I made her up. Harry Potter and all   
related characters and the idea of wizards etc. belongs to the wonderful, incredible, genius,   
brilliant, amazing (ok, I'll stop now) J.K. Rowling. Fyrn Lupin belongs to me, I made her up.  
Anne Greenwich belongs to me, I made her up. Anything else you see belongs to who ever owns it,  
'cause I sure don't. Adios, you lovely lot! PLEASE review!  



	2. Paridosia

A/N-Whoo-hoo! A new installment! Yes, it's thrilling, I know. This one is from Fyrn Lupin's point of view. If you   
can't remember who anyone is, go back and have a look at the 1st chapter. The A/N should tell you everything you  
need to know. Ok, now for the cool stuff!  
  
Fyrn Lupin's Point of View  
  
"And the weather today will be-" "Whoo-hoo!" I shot out of bed, dancing around in my pajamas. "Yay! It's   
the Fourth! It's the fourth!"  
  
"Whaaaa?" My roomate, Mary Russel, but everyone called her Russ, poked her head out from underneath her   
covers, saw me dancing, and pulled the blankets over her head again.  
  
"Hee-hee-hee! C'mon Russ, it's 6! Up and at 'em."  
  
She sat up. "God, Fyrn, why are you so happy today? Usally it's me that has to drag you out of bed in the  
morning."  
  
I stared at her. "You mean you forgot?" I said, pretending to be furious.  
  
"What? Is there something I was supposed to remember?"  
  
I grabbed my wand, pointing it at her. "Russ, I swear, if you're not joking I will curse you to Main Street."  
  
She snatched hers off the bedside table. "Oh really?" She said sarcastically.  
  
I laughed and put the wand down. "No. Alright, c'mon, Ms. Greenwich is coming at Eleven, and I want to be  
ready."  
  
"You really are insane. I've suspected it since June, but, I've only just been sure. You are crazy, Fyrn!"  
She laughed and stood up, jamming her slippers onto her feet.  
  
"Oh, shut up." I said in my snottiest English accent. "If I was allowed to do magic, Russ, you'd be dead.  
My dad-" I stopped. It was still really painful to think about what had happened, even though it had transpired   
almost 3 months ago.  
  
I turned and headed for my closet, thinking. My father, Remus Lupin, had been brutally murdered in June,   
one week before Hogwarts School was attacked by Voldemort and his band of death eaters. Professors McGonagall,  
Trelawny, Sprout, and many students now lay dead. My mother, Sunny Lupin, had disappeared about three days before  
my father was killed. Every single day I prayed that she had escaped and was still safe. I had loved her so much.  
  
I was sent to an American foster home at the end of June, because it was thought that I had some relatives  
in America. Sadly, they couldn't be found, so I stayed here. I missed my friends back at Hogwarts so much. Harry,   
Hermione and Ron were my best friends, since we were all in Gryffindor and had classes together. I smiled   
sardonically. Harry and I were more alike now, I thought. We're both orpahans. I laughed bitterly, getting an odd   
look from Russ.I'd been getting weekly letters from all of them, ever since I came here. Even Dumbledore wrote   
constantly. He'd become almost my psudo father since I came to America.  
  
I grabbed a blouse and jeans and pulled them on. I was being adopted by a woman named Ann Greenwich. She was  
single, living in a large house in the suburbs of Chicago. She was in her mid-thirties, and I liked her okay. She'd   
never really replace my mom, though. She was a muggle, and I hoped she'd let me go back to school in England.  
  
I hopped over to the dressing table, one sock dangling from my foot, and pulled the big, brown, curly blob   
called my hair up into a ponytail. Everyone said I looked so much like my dad. I just hoped that I hadn't inherited  
his *ahem* wolfish tendancies.   
  
"Fyrn!" There was a knock at the door. It was Mrs. Forde. Her and her husband, Ted, ran the foster home.  
  
I sighed. "Yeah, Mrs. Forde? Ow!" This last part was to Sirius, my owl, who had just flown in with a letter  
from Hermione in his beak.  
  
"A man is here to see you. Says it's urgent."  
  
I swore under my breath and said to Russ. "I swear, if it's that damned social worker again, I won't bother   
doing magic, I'll just run him through with my wand."  
  
She laughed and drawled sarcastically, "Oh, yeah, the Ministry will probably give you an order of Merlin  
for that one, Fyrn."  
  
I halfheartedly took a swing at her, which she ducked easily. I turned and grabbed my cloak, not caring if  
the stranger though I was nuts for wearing one. I dashed out the door, Russ running up to come with me.   
  
I stopped short when I reached the front room, where Mrs. Forde always took visitors. A tall man with dark hair  
was standing there. He had brown eyes and a windswept look about him, as if he had just been through high winds. A   
newspaper was shoved in his back pocket. He was pacing the room, looking anxious, and every so often he'd take out  
the paper and rifle through it.   
  
The man turned and saw me and Russ standing there, both wearing our cloaks, mine green and hers blue. He raised  
an eyebrow and walked over to where I was standing.  
  
"Fyrn Lupin?" He said, his voice low.  
  
"Er, yes, that's me."  
  
"Can you come with me, for a walk or something? There's something important we need to discuss." He turned to  
Mrs. Forde, who looked unhappy but nodded her agreement.   
  
I walked over to the door and yanked it open, pulling my cloak tighter around me. The man cast a glance in my  
direction before walking out ahead of me. I followed and we went down the front walk to the lawn, where he turned and  
started heading for the park.I ran to catch up, a thousand questions on my tounge, but he spoke first.  
  
"Fyrn, you can't go with Ms. Greenwich today."  
  
I stopped short, and stared at him. "What?" I sputtered. "Why? She's nice, she's might let me go back to England,  
why shouldn't I go with her?"  
  
The man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Look. It's a long story. I own a resturante, why don't we go have lunch  
there? I've got some friends I need to talk to, and...." He trailed off.  
  
I nodded. I wasn't entirely sure why I trusted him, but I did.  
  
A/N-I was being stupid, i just wanted to post it, so that's all for now. Theo (my oh-so-nice ( yes Theo, that was sarcasm)  
Muse) was being obstinate and wouldn't let me write my An Interesting Offer story. Adios!  
Theo: Yes, I really am nice, she was just being an idiot. 


End file.
